


Nowhere else

by orphan_account



Category: Jreg, The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Character with They/Them Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I'm dyslexic, i can't read good, i can't spell goodI'm sorry if this is shit
Relationships: ancom/authleft
Comments: 13
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dyslexic, i can't read good, i can't spell good
> 
> I'm sorry if this is shit

I sat on the couch stewing in my own self pity. What had I become? the only sound filling the void was Nazi in the room next door, threatening kids online, and the rushing of my own vicious thoughts. How could they? After everything…

I took another slug of my bottle and stared bitterly at the old battered coffee table. They’d dragged that in from the junkyard, no one got rid of it, so it splinted constantly.

This was weak,i was being stupid. We could never get along. We would never have worked…

But still I sat. angry. Alone. Useless.

A meek tapping. So soft. Tentative. But it felt almost like a lie. No one ever knocked. We never bothered. But this felt different. 

I heaved myself up. My usually immaculate attire hanging unwashed and tatty. Scruffy hair tatty and unwashed buried beneath my ushanka hat. I just didn't care. My appearance doesn't matter.

I strode to the door throwing it open with a heavy hand. It knocked against the brick wall angrily ringing to the silent night. 

How long ago did it get dark? Does it matter?

The air was cold and the sky glitter with a dazzling array of twinkling stars. But my focus was sucked in so quickly i didn't bother looking at the stunning sky.

“Anarkitty…”

Their eyes were bloodshot, like they’d been crying. Scarlet dripped down their face from two or three cuts near their temple. Their neck was bruised and they swayed sickeningly as though they were ill, or drugged.

The rage that would have lashed out the moment I saw them melted. Replaced with a burning sense of urgency.

I'd never seen them like this, fear glowing in their eyes. I'd seen them hurt. I've seen them basically dead. But I've never seen them broken.

“Wha-”

I tried again to speak but they beat me to it cutting across me.

“I- I’m sorry… I - I didn't. I didn’t know- where else.. To go…”

They trailed off their already small frame shrinking in on themselves. They- they were.. Backing away? Their eyes were wide and anxious, like they feared an attack. The ferle personality usually only reserved for violent outbursts showed an ugly truth.

“I’ll- I’ll go…”

They shrunk away from me, broken and bruised. I felt something drum up within me. 

“NO.”

They flinched at my brash volume. I internally chastised myself, they were already scared, i cant add to this, i cant chase them away again.

“No-no,”

I lowered my volume, soft sweet.

Get them inside. Get them safe. It doesn't matter if they left. They were injured. Getting them ok was what matters right now.

I put a hand on their shoulder and guided them inside. They were tentative to cross the threshold, blood still trickling down their face. I used them in and shut the door on the star filled sky locking the cold air outside.

Gently i guided them through to the living room. Gently pushing them down to sit on the couch. My earlier drunk lethargy forgotten.

When they were finally under the dim room light I saw the extent of the change. Why?

Scared . Ragged. Broken.

Their grey hoodie was ripped at the sleeve, showing their black t shirt beneath. The warm golden glow reflecting the silver track of tears on their cheeks.

The bruises on their neck now showed up an ugly shade of purple with small yellow blotches. They stared at their knees blankly, eyes wide. Their black ballet flats sat on the floor tattered. They looked like they'd been beaten up.

Rage pumped beneath my skin, like a snake ready to ponce,

“Who did this Anarkitty?”


	2. Chapter 2

Wild fear flashed across their eyes. Then the shadow. The shadow of something so terrible. Blocking out the sun. blocking out their free spirit. Staring at me through a shadowed gaze. They were dead.

“I- I don’t wanna-”  
“It’s ok.”

They didn’t want to tell. I can always press the matter later. Or not. It doesn't matter. Right now, stop them hurting, keep them safe. This time i won't kill the cat. This time i won't ruin it.

I pivoted on my heel, going to grab the kitchen med-kit (we had a few scattered around the house) . I considered what to do next. 

Looking around the sparsely decorated kitchen, with all its dull greys and blacks, I wondered. It had been a long time since i cooked anything proper. Nazi had achieved in forcing me to have a few meals, but i had mainly just been eating bread and other dry foods. But i had no time to dwell.

Before i left i reminded myself, grabbed a glass of water. Anarkitty had never been good at maintaining any type of healthy consumption habits, instead subsiding themselves on drugs.

With the glass of water at hand and med kit tucked under one arm, leaving my hand free, I opened the door to the living space once more. What I stumbled upon was, to say the least, an interesting standoff.

Nazi stood in the bedroom corridor archway, his hat sat slightly eschew, blazer thrown over his grey t-shit and he was barefoot. But the only thing occupying my attention at that moment was his gun.

The pistol gleamed cruelly in the dim light, his hands shook slightly as he stared confused and panicked at Ancom.

They just sat, blood dripping off their chin into their lap. Eyes, void of emotion, dazedly staring at the gun aimed at their head.

“Na- White Indentation!”

Insane eyes darted to look at me before flying back to the quietly bleeding person. He twitched slightly, coming dangerously close to pulling the trigger.

“What ar-”

“WHY THE FUCK IS HE HERE?”

Nazi cut me off, almost screeching as he gestated with his free hand wildly. Before I could answer (try to calm him down) Ancom spoke up.

“No. Nazi, my pronouns are they/them, and I'm sorry to intrude in your home…”

Their eyes were still glazed but something of a glint flashed across, like life in the graveyard behind their eyes.

“I’ll leave if you-”  
“No.”

I cut them off, a little harsher than i had intended, but i got my point across. I watched as they cowherd back, on our well worn leather sofa.

They refused to shy away from a gun pointed at their head, but they were curling away from me? I was defending them. But by the look in their eyes I could have just hit them.

Nazi looked at me wildly, gun still drawn and at the ready, but he was visibly shaking

“Your letting? But he-”

“First they just told you they use they/them pronouns.   
Secondly ideologies can resurrect.   
Thirdly I do not wish to have another debate on loyalty.   
Now if you touch them, harm them in any way, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Nazi went very pail, eyes still wide like a caged animal, but he lowed his weapon. He obviously saw something was very wrong with Ancom. Blood still pooling in their lap.

After a long pause, of Nazi staring blankly at Ancoms curled form

“Ok…”  
“Good boy.” 

I responded automatically. Calmly watching him turn and return to his room. Dropping his gaze to the grey carpet only looking back once he got to the door. I nodded lightly and he disappeared behind the door.

“What- what just happened?”

The small voice, they were so meek, so scared and broken. I will not scare them. I will not harm them anymore.

“We discuss this once you're better.”

They stared up at me, still curled back into the sofa. No voice, just a small nod. The blood still seemed to be flowing. I knelt down in front of them on the ground, and opened the small green box. I beckoned them forward gentle motions. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, they moved forward to the point where I could reach them to dress not only the head wounds but the multitude of cuts littering their body.

Approximately twenty minutes later they sat calmly eyelids drooping slightly, all the dry blood wiped away and all cuts plastered and bandaged.

I tapped their leg gently.

“Take to room?”

I spoke quietly, lightly ghosting my hands to reveal my intentions. They nodded once eyes tired and heavy, as though they carried the weight of the world on their shoulders.

I scooped them up into my grasp, how can anyone be so small? Their head pressed into their chest arms clinging weakly around my shoulder (it was of no practical use but I didn't have the heart to tell them) while their tattered hoodie hung scrappy off their body.

They were shivering, skin icy to the touch. I had no clue what i was feeling. Carrying them gently to their old room -left untouched- i squeezed them lightly. I'll worry later.


	3. Chapter 3

As I left the dark room they mumbled something, inaudible.

“What did you say?”

The silence stayed, thinking i was hearing things i went to leave, no reason to bother their sleep. Then.

“C- can you… umm…”

It was so quiet I could have missed it but.

“I don’t wanna… be- be alone… its- please?”

They sounded so small, weak… I can't leave them. They’re scared of the dark. They are so sweet. 

I took a light breath in, considering, but I threw caution and bitterness to the winds.

“Ok… just to night, but you can’t stay up.”

Be in control. Always. I still didn’t know how to feel about their betrayal. But they are here and alive. And I've missed them.

For a fraction of a second the room glowed green, so the cat’s not dead. Just… hiding.

We’d slept in the same bed before, always under pretence, but now it felt… comfortable?

No. it had always been comfortable, but now? It had been so long, I'd been bitter and angry and…  
I missed them. 

Nazi called me every name under the sun, they thought i was weak, but they could never have this. We had been getting along not through agreement, it was usually through 'compromise.' But Nazi still called me weak for this. Maybe it was because he knew he was never enough… he could never fill the void.

Now holding Ancom to my chest, listening to their gentile breathing, warm. Every uncomfortable, uncertain, second spent with Nazi was a betrayal. It was all an elaborate lie.

curled into my chest, they were so warm. What had happened to my Anarkitty? Who had hurt them? Why had they come to me? The last time they saw me i let them get ‘killed’, even to me the Kulack looked like a safer option, especially the fact of no Nazi.

As the gentile breathing and intoxicating warmth withheld, my thundering thoughts slowly ebbed, to a gentile drone. This was good.

As I watched the light slowly filter through the crack in the window, I finally drifted off to sleep.

Around three hours later I woke up, like clockwork. Ancom was still out cold and I relished in their body heat for a few comforting minutes. I consider staying and trying to go back to sleep but reconsidered almost immediately. I can’t wreck my routine now, I had it down perfectly.

Gently I dis-tangled my arms from the soft warmth Anarkitty provided. I rose carefully, not to rock the bed. grabbed a large blanket as their room was freezing and went about wrapping them up gently and softly.

I stared at their peaceful expression, it was marred by the multitude of cuts and bruises but no one could dispute how adorable they looked even when most of their features were wrapped in bandages.

One day I will hold them close, under no pretence, and tell them everything. They mean so much to me. I wish to tell them everything. But for now? I can only celebrate their return.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nazi's bitter as shit
> 
> its short as fuck  
> sorry

Leaving them to sleep I went through to the living space, wondering what I should do with my time. My answer sat calmly on the sofa, oversized t-shirt curling around the game controller in his lap. His hat sat on the floor.

“Nazi?”

I hadn't meant it to sound like a question. This was their house as well after all, but they weren't usually up this early.

They sat, slightly quizzical expressions, as they struggled to articulate a response.

“Yes?”

It was an uncertain response as though they didn't know how to respond. Then he squinted slightly and added

“So why's the degenerate back?”

There was an attempt at malice, but it fell flat. A twinkle of uncertainty behind his baby blue eyes.

I consider my response. I could become angry and defend Anarkitty. I could be gentle, spare his feelings. Return the malice he tried to project. Not give him a response?

All had their flare.

But I should just be honest.

“They deserved help. I defend the weak.”

Nazi stared at me blankly. Then he was laughing, it built up, it started as a quiet chuckle escalated to a full on hysterical laugh. I am confused and strangely angry.

“Why are you laughing?”

I asked sternly, locking him with a steely gaze. It took a few moments from him to calm down. Once he finally did he looked at me with, almost mournful, evil eyes. 

“If i betrayed you like that…  
I’d be dead, for real, six feet under…  
But for your ‘Anarkitty’ you forgive anything. They are still deserving of your affection…”

He sounded bitter. Shoulders slumped. Defeated. Staring numbly back at me.

I can see it too, the frustration, something more. It was strange on his face. Misplaced. Untrue. 

I was lying to myself. Wilfully ignorant to what i have done, seen.

“Anything else?”

I'd had enough of this strange interaction. He didn't seem to be going anywhere with his mournful words. 

“No… i guess not…”

His voice was quiet, resigned and the slightest hint of bitter tarnished his usually composed demener. He held the game controller in his lap limp and useless. He stared at the carpet.

“Well…”

I wondered what to do,

“I'm going to make breakfast, you want eggs?”

The mention of food made him raise his gaze. His eyes lit up slightly. They had bags under them.

“Only if you don't burn them…”

I smiled and went through to the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm just pumping out short shitty nothings
> 
> but at least its something?
> 
> sorry i'm not feeling amazing about the whole world at the moment

The sun hit my eyes harshly. rude. it had been a long time since i’d woken up before the moon was hanging high in the sky, it had been even longer since i woke up somewhere i recognised.

I wasn't supposed to be here. At all. I could get killed.

Useless. I am useless. Maybe death was a fair option. 

Should I face the thunder? Should I hide? Should I curl up and die? Why was I here? My mind raced. Even the slightest movement made my body ache. What happened…

The memories hit me like a ton of bricks. Dazzling, blinding me worse than the sun had. The room swayed under the weight of fear and stress. Flags and drug paraphernalia swimming in a sickening pool. Ribbons swaying up to become bars caging me in, curling around me, pushing me into the bed. 

Down. down. down.

Drowning in my own confusion. Tears fell down my face. My body burned.

Slowly the memories enveloped me. Held me. Trapped me. His words wringing in my ears,

“You have nowhere else…”

Over and over, he told me, he whispered softly in my ear. It wasn't true! But as his words enveloped me the cage locked me in the swirling pool dragging me under.

I’m worthless...

“Anarkitty?”

A soft voice at the door, familiar, safe. 

“Anarkitty? Are you awake?”

It dragged me up. He asked me. I was ok. It'll be ok.

“I have veggie sausages…”

He sounded uncertain. It was uncanny. He was so authoritative. Slowly I dragged my eyes open, I hadn't realised I closed them as I was drowning. He stood hazily in the door frame, figure fluttering in and out of focus as he stared into the dark room.

The beam of sun that had dragged me back to the hellish world of the living, lit up the dust as it lit up my life, lit up what was meant to be dead. Floating. Peacefully.

“Asleep…”

His voice was almost inaudible as he murmured to himself. The word caught up to me, just as he went to leave me, alone. Panic struck me straight to the bone. I can't be left to the cold of my old life.

“I- i’m… awake.”

My voice was croaky and broken. I usually preferred not to use my voice. It tied me to the living world. My world. But I wasn't going to be left alone again.

“Good!”  
He sounded happy. happy means good. Happy means no pain,

“I made breakfast”

The mention of food was a new idea, when did I last eat? The world seemed so large and time seemed like a foreign concept. 

As I, once again, tried to sit up my gut plummeted. My body screamed in agony. Each muscle and joint crying out for relief. I crumpled in on myself. Fast. like a paper doll in water.

“Anarkitty!”

I was falling again. But he caught me.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a cold morning, the air waging a bitter war as the seasons slid ever closer to winter. The grass looked frosted and the world stood still. But for the first time in a long time, I was inside, I was safe. 

Well not exactly safe, Nazi still hated my guts -reasonable- and commie seemed on edge. 

But we ate an only slightly burnt breakfast and the two authoritarians had been ever composed and calm. Although Tankie shot me concerned looks when he thought i wasn't looking and Nazi wrinkled his nose at me once or twice. I didn’t care enough to call either of them out, and deep down i felt as though i deserved it...

My body had ached, but after Commie carried me through to the sitting room and gave me some pain killers it had been manageable, barely.

I sat quietly and listened to Nazi scream slers down his mic. Commie was reading theory. The world seemed stable for the first time in a long time. My life was not at stake, no one was pressuring me to do anything. It was nice, being safe.

It just had to be shattered? All good things end too soon, I'd learned that a long time ago.

“Why did you come here?”

Nazi had taken his head set off and was sat stiffly staring at me. Eyes bold not betraying any feelings. He sounded bored. Uncaring of the answer, the only indicator there was any tension at all was Commie. His wide frame and exaggerated movements always noticeable, he lent forward in his seat as though to defend me or to attack Nazi.

I bit my lip. Memories reemerging, threatening to drown me again. The blatant curiosity on Tankies face and the indifferent sneer on Nazi’s told me there was no way out.  
I looked at the carpet, hoping it would guide me out of the situation. Help me. No such support came from the floor. Offensive. 

“I didn’t have…”

Help me. Help me! HELP ME! Sweet bringer of the relief of death. I felt the oppression. I felt the power. What am I meant to do? I don't want them to know how weak i am. How useless. The Nazi can’t know!

My head swam. The scratches they didn’t see. the bruises. The memory's. I balled my hands into fists, clinging to the blanket draped over my lap, desperate for a life line. There's no way out.

“I- I don’t wanna talk about… it.”

Nazi quirked an eyebrow at me, a sneer of contempt growing across his face like a stain spreading out against a blank canvas,

“Ow. is that so?” 

He sounded so condescending. He knew where I stood; he knew what I meant. The slight glitter in his eyes portrays the true extent of contempt he held for me. He hated me. It was fair, it was just, I hated him.

Tankie cleared his throat gruffly trying to cut the tension short, it somewhat succeeded me and Nazi stopped staring each other down now Nazi glowered at him and i set my gaze on the blanket as though it was the most interesting thing to have ever been met with in my life.

“If Ancom doesn't want to talk about it, they shouldn't have to.”

He spoke with a relaxed well worn air, the return to an authoritative demeanour refreshing in a scary way. He stared straight back at Nazi, something glittering in this eyes, i recognised that stare i just didn’t know where. I dropped my gaze realising what he said, cautiously i reminded

“It’s- it’s Post… PostLeft Tankie…”

I sounded weak, small and useless. Yea i was.

But AuthLeft nodded quickly the expression he had held with AuthRight melted away like the frost in the grass faced with the sun,

“Of course! PostLeft. If PostLeft doesn't want to talk about it, they shouldn’t have to.”

This tone so desperate to please was scary. Nazi stared at me sullenly, the flicker of something behind his eyes old grudges floating to the surface along with new ones forming. I didn’t feel as safe as I had but it was better than nothing.

The room became calmer as Nazi turned back to his game. A few heart beats late Tankie caught my eye and nodded, once I returned the nod he went back to his book, the tension in the room was present, but this was normal.


	7. Chapter 7

As the day progressed it became more and more blatant something was going on, it was as though Nazi refused to use his words. He was fighting a silent war with sullen glares and bitter words. I had no clue what was going on most of the time, to be honest, I didn’t know what was going on most of the time it all felt like a dream drifting around me too far off to completely understand but so close I could taste the understanding.

When was the last time I got high? It felt like an age so long and intangible I had no control over it. My bones ached. Each muscle felt raw and strung out. My head swam with the gentle life the Authoretarans had adapted.

They moved around each other with the type of fluidity and ease only people who knew each other well could have. It was a peculiar sight, id been left on the sofa as they worked Nazi filling out paperwork placed on his table by Commie who moved around cabinets and rooms like a shadow of his bulk. It was 4 hours of hushed tones and pain before I finally slumped over into a fitful sleep, shaking from the nonexistent cold. The house was safe the house was Tankie and warm cups of coffee and two am snacks with-

I froze. Him. He was- he- I was shacking. I am safe. I was safe. No. no-no-no.

My head began to submerge again. No-no-no. I’m not letting this happen. Not with Nazi. I opened my eyes. Wider than I could ever remember opening them sober. They searched frantically, like search and rescue breaming into the fog on a stormy night, trying to save the forgotten sailor.

What am I looking for? My brain was so calm. Surreal in a detached state to my panicking body. What do I need so badly? The answer came quickly. Breath. Tankie was slouched over the desc writing on a form nazi held out for him. The world slowed down. Red and blue clashed in the air. The ground made swirling patterns.

When did I last take anything? 

It felt empty though no pleasant relief from the shackles of reality. Tankie. Safty. Warm. sleep was the only way forward from here I suppose. With my vision filled by AuthRight nothing in the world could have stopped me from sinking into the blissful relief of sleep. I didn’t have a fucking sleep schedule to mess up, I can do what I want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the shittest day, I'm sorry this isn't very good I just can't bring myself to write anything real   
> all I want to just flote away from reality.
> 
> but instead, I'm writing some stupid panicky bullshit
> 
> sorry 
> 
> I'm pretty bad rn 
> 
> hope you're having a better day tho


End file.
